Six of One, Half a Dozen of Another
by eyecanread
Summary: Agent Six. The man, the mystery.


**MOA owns Generator Rex, I don't claim any rights and make no money from this.**

**A/N: This is a little sleep deprivation-caused madness. We all know what that's like don't we? I put this in the Agent Six category but, in truth, he isn't even in it. LOL but it _is_ all about him. You'll see.**

**OK, so obviously I wrote this before _Divide By Six_ (which was an awesome episode, btw) and it will appear out of date. Forgive me. I liked this story too much to toss it. Now that I think about it the title of this turned out to be rather ironic.**

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><p><strong>Six of One, Half a Dozen of Another<strong>

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><p>"That's the number of ex-wives he has. Nix that. I'm throw'n that one out myself, on account I can't imagine the guy ever being married. Let alone more than once." Bobo Haha loped across their shared bedroom and jump into the monkey bars which dominated the center of the room.<p>

"He has five older siblings," Rex lolled back on his bed but never broke the rhythm of his ball against the wall. They'd been having this discussion about the origin and/or meaning behind Agent Six's name for several minutes, ever since they left the man himself with Dr. Holiday.

Bobo hung from a bar by one arm and made a scoffing noise. "That's like sayin' he was born on a Friday. Come up with something a little more interesting please." He swung himself up onto his bed, grabbing one of his many magazines.

"He's the world's sixth most dangerous man." Rex shot back, not to be deterred.

"Heard that one before," Bobo muttered, discounting it with a roll of his unpatched eye. "He's sixth off the production line in his particular model of robot." Rex caught the ball and craned his neck to send an incredulous look at his simian partner. "Hey, it could happen. Have you seen that man's underwear drawer? No one folds like him. It's just not human."

It was Rex's turn to roll his eyes. "Maybe it's like a James Bond designation." He went back to tossing his ball mindlessly.

"Wishful think'n, kid. I'm leaning more towards he has six toes on one foot."

Rex sat bolt upright and turned to his roommate with a gigantic grin. "He got that name because that's as high as White could count." They both roared with laughter. So much so that Bobo fell off his bed with a thud, in turn sending them into another laughing fit.

After they'd calmed an unsettling thought came to the teenager. "What if it's the number of charges he's "lost" during his career, and he has to live with that number every day?"

"Geez, if that's true it's no wonder he's so..." the ape paused his climb back to his bunk to think of a word.

"Driven?" Rex supplied.

"I was going to say anal, but yeah. That sounds about right." He looked down at Rex and the boy glanced back up.

The goggled teen shook his head, looking down at his shoes. "I won't let him change his name again," he intoned.

Bobo was silent as he watched the boy. Despite his general sardonic view of the world he wanted to agree with the kid. He had to admit, albeit wholly to himself, Six was one of the good ones. But all this "feelings junk" was not his cup of espresso. The ape cleared his throat to get Rex's attention. "Maybe it's the number of times he's smiled."

Rex relaxed a bit and flopped back on his bed, resuming his ball-tossing. "Yeah, that sounds likely."

"What sounds likely?"

Rex sat up sharply and smacked his head into the ball he'd failed to catch. "Six!" his voice squeaked out at the sudden appearance of his aggro-nanny. "Nuh...nothing. What's up?"

One of Agent Six's brows slowly crept up his forehead causing Rex to start sweating. "We have a debriefing with White." He motioned with a jerk of his head.

Rex bounded up. "Yeah! Right!" He dashed past the agent out the door but paused when the man didn't follow. "What?"

"That's what I was going to ask. Are you alright, kid?"

"Sure! Never better, really." Rex fidgeted like a toddler in church.

Six's brow twitched again. "Right," he said skeptically. He turned back to the room. "Are you coming, monkey?"

The simian, who had been unusual quiet during the whole exchange, just looked down from his perch and shook his head.

Six shrugged one shoulder and led the teen up the hall. He'd find out what was going on one way or another. Or his name wasn't Agent Six.

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><p><strong>AN: Don't discount the robot theory. Do we all remember The Architect?  
>Most disturbing thought: How does Bobo know what Six's underwear drawer looks like?<strong>


End file.
